Ricardo Pustanio, Mardi Gras artist

We met up with Pustanio this week as he placed the finishing touches on Mardi Gras floats for the Krewe of Mid City. He believes Mardi Gras is a welcome distraction for residents who continue to struggle with rebuilding their homes and lives. This year's carnival season is expected to be larger than last year's, when the city was forced to scaled back the festivities following Katrina. Prior to the storm, Mardi Gras generated approximately $1 billion for the city's tourist economy.

Photo by NBC's Bruce Bernstein.

It's been a difficult weekend for my family and for many other families in New Orleans. The so-called crime wave that hit the city during the start of this new year has been unsettling. As of Monday, there have been at least nine people killed in the last eight days. Correspondent Martin Savidge wrote a compelling story on the issue for Nightly News on Friday. But the problem has become personal for me, as it has for others who live here.

This weekend, Mayor Ray Nagin put it best when he said in a hastily called news conference that even one murder is too many. For a good number in this city, the one murder too many was the brutal slaying last week of Helen Hill. Hill was a talented, award-winning filmmaker. Her husband, Paul Gailiunas, is a doctor who dedicated his time to serving the poor. Together they moved back to this city after Katrina destroyed their home to raise their 2-year old son, and be a part of the city's recovery. Many people become a part of the city's rebuilding effort just by deciding to live here. According to the Times-Picayune, Helen and her husband were different. They collected food for homeless people, served indigent patients and in ways big and small served as an example to their community of what it means to help rebuild. 

Thursday morning, Helen Hill was murdered inside her home, apparently by an intruder. Her husband was shot three times and found shielding their toddler in the doorway, apparently trying to protect him. It was shocking on a number of levels. The neighborhood they lived in attracted an artsy, eclectic crowd. But in recent months, a string of robberies and shootings had begun to put people on edge. Helen Hill's murder has put some people there over the edge. They are angry, frustrated and fearful. And rightfully so. 

It was also shocking personally, because it turns out that Paul and Helen were friends of our friends. On Friday, I learned that Dr. Gailiunas served as a pediatrician for two of our children's closest playmates. Sunday I learned the couple were acquaintances of another family we know. I also learned that their son went to pre-school at the same place we considered sending our children. The city of New Orleans is truly a small town. People tell me that if you live here long enough, you either know someone or are related to them in some way. I'm now sure that it would have just been a matter of time before my family would have met Hill and her family.

This weekend, the mayor and police chief hinted that they'll announce aggressive new tactics including a possible overnight curfew. Helen's friends and neighbors set up a makeshift shrine on their doorstep. And folks gathered in coffee shops and churches across the city to plan a march on City Hall for Thursday. In our home, we debated whether installing a security fence would make us seem unfriendly to our new neighbors.

There will be no easy answer to the crime problem. The police force is understaffed, the criminal justice system is overburdened and some residents are so overwhelmed with fear, they refuse to tip off police about criminal activity in their own neighborhoods. What may be required is an unprecedented effort by police, City Hall, the district attorney and community groups. Whatever action is taken will come too late for Helen Hill's family. The rest of us in New Orleans are hopeful it will come just in time for ours.

I spend quite a bit of time driving the streets of New Orleans and its surrounding parishes. It gives me a chance to look for signs and symbols of everyone's state of mind. While I typically note the looks on their faces, how many Saints jerseys I see, and even whether they're keeping their lawns up (whether in front of their gutted home or FEMA trailer), lately I've been paying closer attention to the bumper stickers on their cars. People may intend to use them as reflections of their individuality, but in fact those stickers tell you more about their common beliefs. A lot of them are predictably sports-related: "GO LSU TIGERS," "GO HORNETS," "GEAUX SAINTS."

But others are different. Let's start with "FAITH." What started out as a message years ago to fans to have faith in the once-beleagured Saints, now seems to have a new life as a message about people's belief in their now-beleagured city. There are other stickers that existed before the storm but have been embraced anew.

When I first arrived here, I began to notice these: "NEW ORLEANS, PROUD TO CALL IT HOME." I'm told by folks that the slogan was created a few years back by some group looking to boost New Orleans' self-image. But a lot of those stickers seem to lack the nicks, dents and tears that a few years of driving and a major hurricane would inflict on them. Residents are buying them again, eager to renew their commitment to the city, in writing.

That original sticker has given way to some new variations on the theme. In a city that prides itself on its penchant for partying, someone apparently came up with this version: NEW ORLEANS, PROUD TO CRAWL HOME." You tend to see those on cars driven by young people around the local universities. But New Orleanians are nothing but self-deprecating.

So it was just a matter of time that post-storm, this version starting appearing on cars and trucks" "NEW ORLEANS: PROUD TO SWIM HOME." That grim humor is shared by alot of folks, it seems. Another incarnation I've seen: "PROUD TO REBUILD HOME AND STILL PROUD TO CALL IT HOME." It's a postive sign that folks aren't waiting for the chamber of commerce to sum up their feelings about the city.

Another popular sticker I see says "ERACISM" (Erase Racism). I'm told it too predated the storm by more than a decade. A quick Internet search revealed that Eracism is the slogan of the group ERACE, which was formed in New Orleans in 1993 following a series of articles in The Times-Picayune, "Together Apart/The Myth of Race." There's something to be said for a city that's willing to admit its problems, in black and white, right there on bumper stickers for all the world to see.

Stickers created after the storm tend to be pointedly political. For awhile, vehicles sported these: "HOLD THE CORPS ACCOUNTABLE" or "FEMA HAPPENS" or even this: "FEMA WHERE Y'AT?" But the anger at a particular government agency has morphed into a general feeling of frustration that perceived government neglect is bigger than any one bureaucracy. That's reflected in this play off the old 60s summer of love slogan. The updated New Orleans' version? "MAKE LEVEES, NOT WAR." Thousands more messages dot back windows, bumpers and tailgates around here. Most are simple in their sentiments. "I LOVE NOLA" or a simple Fleur De Lis symbol. One of the most poignant I saw this week. A couple who live in New Orleans East have a specially printed sticker on their vehicle that reads "THANKS AMERICA, MARY AND JOSEPH PEREZ, NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA." They attached it to their car when they evacuated following the storm. It was their way of telling folks they were grateful for the help. Mary and Joseph are spending Christmas in a FEMA trailer back in New Orleans (that's another story), but despite the fact they're home, they feel compelled to keep displaying that sticker.

-- Clarence Glover25-year streetcar operator

We met up with Clarence, affectionately known as "Glover" to his co-workers, along the Canal Street line last week. Before the storm, Glover worked exclusively on the picturesque St. Charles Avenue line. But Katrina left that area's intricate web of power lines tangled and torn. There's been concern about the amount of money and effort it would take to restore it. Already, the city's transit agency has laid off hundreds of workers and cut dozens of bus lines, but now the federal government has agreed to kick in millions in loans and subsidies to keep mass transit rolling and get the historic St. Charles line back on track by the end of 2007. That's good news for Glover, who has been spending his time training other operators. He's looking forward to greeting you somewhere down the line in New Orleans.

Photo of Clarence Glover by NBC's Bruce Bernstein.

5130 Cameron Boulevard in New Orleans, the 1000th home gutted by volunteers working for Catholic Charities. Photo by Steve Majors.

It's just another sad house on a street of sad houses in a sad post-Katrina neighborhood. But this house was supposed to be remarkable. After all, it was the 1000th flood-damaged home to be gutted by volunteers from a local agency. I'd been to many "milestones" like this before -- all indeed important, but also manufactured by well-meaning groups who wanted the news media to notice their efforts.

After almost six months in New Orleans, I understand the danger of Katrina fatigue. I mean, I've stood in so many mud-caked homes, partially gutted buildings, cramped FEMA trailers and newly-framed homes, that I can't count them all. So you can see why this one seemed like all the rest.

And it's not just the locations that have a sameness about them -- the stories of those who lived there can sound the same, too. After a while, you even begin to ask the same five questions just to get a quick sense of their circumstances: "How ya doin' today... How much water you get? You and your family evacuate? You have insurance?  Think you're going to stay, sell or just abandon it?"

But you always find something incredibly memorable about the person or their circumstances. For instance, two days ago there was a very stoic 75-year-old man patiently painting the front door of a rehabbed home: Eight to 10 feet of water; his 95-year-old mother and sister were evacuated; the insurance paid out and now he was rebuilding.

Sometimes you have to ask a thousand more questions. Sometimes just one more: "Where's your mother living now?" Without missing a beat or a paint stroke, he explained she wasn't. She'd been evacuated from the house by helicopter. She died a short time later. He wouldn't dream of abandoning this house now. 

I tell you that because of what happened Wednesday at 5130 Cameron Blvd. We didn't come to the home to do a story about its homeowner or even the fact that it was the 1000th home gutted by this particular charity. We merely came to collect a few minutes of videotape for a different story on the end of hurricane season. But the wonderful and efficient public relations representative pressed me: Would you like to speak to our volunteers? They came all the way from Dubuque, Iowa. How about the homeowner, did you know he's a well-known R&B writer/producer responsible for some hit songs in the 70s? He also came all the way from Atlanta for today's event. I thanked her, but explained that was not the intent of our overall story.

So, I stood on the sidewalk as the photographer went about his work. And I watched the volunteers, who didn't care if they were on camera or not -- they were there to gut a home and pile the remnants into a massive pile on the sidewalk.

But as I stared at that pile growing higher and higher, I noticed something different. On top of this pile at 5130 Cameron Blvd. was a woman's red hat. A fancy hat. The kind many women would recognize as a "going to Sunday meeting" hat. I started to wonder about the woman who'd worn it and her relation to the homeowner. Did she sing in the choir? Had she made it out alive? Had she been a famous R&B singer in the 70s? Did she have a son who was stoic, but perhaps memorable in his own way? There was a story there in that hat, I was sure of it. I looked at it, proud, red and jaunty -- sitting amid a pile of gray.

And then, I couldn't help but think of the Holocaust epic "Schindler's List," shot in black and white and told in shades of gray. All except for the little girl in the red coat -- a symbol of humanity, hope, individuality -- her image, unmistakable and unforgettable in the middle of an overwhelming number of terrible images.

If I'm being melodramatic here, forgive me. But I'm struck by the fact that long after my assignment here ends, this is the lesson I'll carry with me. And I hope to share it with those of you who sometimes feel you've already heard the story of New Orleans a thousand times.

If you listen hard enough or look close enough, you'll realize that everyone's story here is different, poignant, and important. I'll never get to tell you each one of those stories, and on this particular day, I didn't even get the chance to tell the story at 5130 Cameron Blvd. But as the photographer packed up his camera and we nodded goodbye to the volunteers and the PR people, I did want to tell one person that this story was important. So I walked over to another figure who was standing on the sidewalk staring at the debris pile -- the homeowner. I shook his hand, thanked him, and wished him good luck.

"New Orleans is a gumbo of Voodoo and Halloween."
-- Jerry Gandolfo, aka "Mr. Voodoo"

Spiritualists, Voodoo practitioners and the owners of "little shops of horror" are all welcoming New Orleans' second favorite holiday (behind Mardi Gras, of course). Among them is Jerry Gandolfo, who runs the New Orleans Historic Voodoo Museum. We stopped in this week to see what kind of business he's been scaring up. Tourism has been sluggish this fall and Jerry hopes Halloween raises his business from the dead. But don't be mistaken, his museum is more than just a tourist trap. A good number of voodoo believers and practitioners stop in to call upon the spirits to intercede on their behalf. They pick up Voodoo dolls, Gris-Gris bags, pray at the Voodoo altar and of course pay homage to the 19th Century Voodoo Queen Marie Laveau.

>

Jerry hopes you'll fall under New Orleans' spell and help bring tourism back. But if you can't make it, you can still be here in spirit. You may spot Jerry tonight on Nightly as Mike Taibbi reports on the business of Halloween. Or... click here to get a first look at an episode of "Sci-Fi Investigates," which visited New Orleans this summer to report on the city's mysterious Voodoo culture.

Photo: Voodoo dolls on display at the New Orleans Historic Voodoo Museum. Photo by Steve Majors.

-- Joe Yurt, Director of Rodent Control for New Orleans, aka "The Pied Piper"

I spoke with Yurt recently while researching a potential story about the rodent problem emerging in the city in the year since Katrina. Rats are only one part of the problem. Snakes, squirrels, raccoons and armadillos are among a number of wild animals that moved into parts of the city when people moved out following the storm.

However, Yurt explained to me that as people returned to their homes, they encountered new neighbors who have been waiting for a steady food supply. The only good news in all of this? Business is booming at private pest and rodent control companies.

Photo caption: One of the rats captured by Rodent Control. Yes, it was as big as a rabbit. Photo by Steve Majors.

Ushers take a tour of the the Louisiana Superdome on Saturday, hoping to learn the changes before tonight's game. Photo by Chris Graythen/Getty Images.

Tonight, the New Orleans Saints return home to the Superdome for the first time since Katrina. And it's not just a source of pride for the team, it;s also become a source of inspiration for the city.

First, there is the dome itself. A year ago, it seemed irreparably damaged. Part of the roof had peeled away leaving the inside water-logged and moldy. Evacuees left behind 4,000 tons of debris and refuse as well as badly damaged seats, concession stands and suites. As for the dome's image? Well, to this day, no one expects, or wants, the world to forget those pictures of human suffering. But tonight, a "new" Superdome debuts to a nationwide audience with an image everyone hopes will be just as memorable.

It took $144 million dollars and 850 workers working nine months to give the dome its badly needed facelift. From top to bottom, it looks wholly different from that dark, windswept structure where thousands huddled during the storm and for days afterward.

Let's start at the top. That mangled roof, all 9.7 acres of it, has been entirely replaced. Inside, there's a new state-of-the-art lighting and sound system. On top of that, there are new scoreboards and video screens, a brighter paint scheme, modernized concession stands, upgraded luxury suites and a fresh paint job on brand new turf. In short, it looks like a brand new dome.

If the dome itself weren't enough to be proud of, the city is walking on air about the Saints. This will be their first home game since Katrina. And this season, unlike many others, fans have something to cheer about. The team comes into tonight's game 2-0. Most NFL teams wouldn't consider that a lot to brag about. But for fans accustomed to so many losing seasons, it's enough to let them dream. On top of that, they're playing their long time rivals, the Atlanta Falcons, who are also undefeated.

And tonight's game has also given the city what no FEMA official, politician or insurance adjuster could hope. Many have said; if the lackluster Saints can come back with a strong start to the season and if the Superdome, with its painful past, can rebuild in record time, perhaps there is hope for this city. The team and the dome have become symbols of what might be possible.

It may not be the Super Bowl, but it could indeed be the most important game of the season, emotionally. Why?  Perhaps it's because the game has given everyone something positive to focus on for a change. It's all everyone talks about. Instead of talking about whether they're back in their house, received their insurance check or are thinking about leaving, folks here can finally just talk about something normal -- a football game.

Editor's note: Steve also took his DV cam into the dome ... we'll crunch that video and deliver it to you in this blog shortly. Tonight on 'Nightly,' correspondent Martin Savidge reports on the Saints home opener.

"OHHHHH, TEAM, BREAK IT DOWN! OFFENSE! BREAK IT DOWN! DEFENSE! BREAK IT DOWN! HURRICANES! SPELL IT OUT! H-U-R-R-I-C-A-N-E-S! CANES ON THREE, CANES ON THREE! 1,2,3, CANES!"Those were the sounds of the South Plaquemines High School football team on a recent Friday night during their first game of the season. This "Friday Night Lights" moment was not unlike thousands of others playing out in small towns across the country. But it differed in one respect. These players were making a comeback a year after Katrina destroyed their homes, school and community. You can see Martin Savidge's inspirational story on the Hurricanes tonight on Weekend Nightly News.

A day after watching former New York City Mayor Rudy Giuliani talk about how his city has changed in the five years since 9/11, it was fascinating for me to watch another mayor talk about the changes his city has undergone since its disaster.

Today, New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin held a long-anticipated news conference to update citizens on the progress of his "100-day plan." Mr. Nagin made a major pledge upon his re-election to improve the city's quality of life within his first 100 days. But over the past few months, columnists, radio talk show hosts and citizens have taken the mayor to task for not defining his vision for the city's recovery.

Photo caption: New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin discusses his accomplishments and plans for the city after 100 days of his second term. Photo by Lee Celano, REUTERS.

But still, Nagin acknowledges "the city isn't where it should be." He says that will take years. It seems no one disagrees with him on either point. But it will be interesting to see how his critics and even his supporters will judge him over the next 265 days and the three following years of his term. Though no one used the word in the news conference today, outside City Hall, it seems that every question comes back to how he leads the city versus how he manages it.

Giuliani faced similar questions prior to 9/11. As a former New Yorker, I know Giuliani was a polarizing figure. Like Nagin, he was known to speak his mind and to occasionally make a remark that divided people. Giuliani, like Nagin, proposed some controversial policies. And Giuliani, also like Nagin, sometimes had a less-than-cordial relationship with the news media. 

But some have said that 9/11 indelibly stamped the positive attributes of Rudy into the minds of the public. He was decisive, calm under pressure, and communicated a clear vision of what he intended to do. 

Katrina and its aftermath have yet to do the same for Mayor Nagin. He is indeed, charismatic, honest and determined. But today, as on many other days, he was asked by the media whether he can communicate a vision to New Orleanians of what their city will look like. He declined. To be fair, Nagin explained that he wants citizens to plan their neighborhoods first and the market economy to drive the recovery.

That may be the right answer. Only time will tell. But unfortunately, it's not the answer many citizens say they want to hear right now. In every neighborhood we visit, residents pepper us with questions:  "Do we know when their debris will be picked up? Do we know anyone at City Hall who can help them with a rat problem? Have we heard whether there are plans to rebuild the rental apartments down the block?"

We can't answer all their questions. And Nagin cannot. Just as Mr. Giuliani couldn't answer questions after 9/11 about destroyed apartments near the World Trade Center, about whether small businesses would return to downtown Manhattan and even when redevelopment would begin at ground zero.

100 days of progress may be a tough thing for Nagin to sell to his citizens. Perhaps, it will take five years after Katrina for history to judge his decisions fairly. However, it didn't take Giuliani that long to inspire a feeling of confidence in his leadership after 9/11. He accomplished that in the few months he had left in his second term. Nagin still has time to do the same: 1,360 days by my count (4 years minus 100 days).

"You can't have a major urban center if you don't have schools that are working, if you don't have hospitals that can run, if you don't have electricity you can count on. Everybody's still in limbo and that's a pity a year after the storm."Douglas BrinkleyNew Orleans resident and author

I spoke with Doug Brinkley last week in the Ninth Ward. He is the author of the "Great Deluge," which chronicled Katrina and its aftermath. Although he notes the enormous amount of progress, Brinkley expresses concerned about the future of the Ninth Ward and the city itself. He believes New Orleans can maintain its status as a major American city, but only if more basic services are available to residents who wish to return.

Photo caption: Doug Brinkley talks to Steve in the Ninth Ward. Courtesy of NBC News.

"This was my apartment right here. Ain't too much to see (now) except an empty slab. That's the only thing I want to know: What are they going to do with this land? Are they going to rebuild it or just let it go?"Steven Smith

Steven Smith returned to New Orleans this week from Houston to look at what remained of his apartment complex. He's one of several former residents we've been talking to this week as we prepare stories for the upcoming anniversary of Katrina. As we walked the muddy field where it once stood, he talked about his desire to return permanently to his hometown. Smith lost nearly all his belongings in the flooding that followed Katrina. He's eager to come home to his old neighborhood because he says he's had a hard time finding an affordable apartment in other parts of the city.